


Young and Right

by intherubble



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Blow Jobs, Facials, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-24
Updated: 2012-11-24
Packaged: 2017-11-19 09:39:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/571880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intherubble/pseuds/intherubble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Harry says there’s a party at Niall’s house tonight,” Louis blurts, sounds like he’s trying to be casual about it but the fact that he’s wriggling his eyebrows under his fringe and bouncing a bit in his seat ruins the effect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Young and Right

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wasp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasp/gifts).



> This is for my dearest Teddy on the occasion of her completing all of her exams. It was just supposed to be a quick fic about Liam accidentally coming on Louis' face but then it somehow turned into inexplicable High School!AU. Oops?
> 
> Thanks to [nicheinhischest](http://archiveofourown.org/users/nicheinhischest/pseuds/nicheinhischest) for reading it over for me, all mistakes are my own.

Liam’s not even really sure how he ended up tutoring Louis in Chemistry because honestly Liam isn’t actually _good_ at science, just studies enough to manage above average grades most of the time. But Liam needed the job for his college applications and Louis had made these sad eyes at him when he tried to mumble out something to their teacher about how he wouldn’t be any help and Louis should find someone else. They’d never spoken before so Liam couldn’t understand why Louis would be so insistent, Liam hadn’t thought Louis even knew who he was. 

And at this point Liam wouldn’t really consider what he and Louis do _tutoring_. Mostly Liam struggles through the reactions they’re supposed to diagram for homework while Louis hangs upside down off the couch watching trash television and intermittently flicking chunks of the snacks his mom leaves out at Liam’s face even though Liam refuses to attempt catching them in his mouth.

Louis’ drama rehearsals run late one Thursday and after Liam gets a text interspersed with sad faces and exclamation points, he offers to meet the day after instead. Liam probably had it coming if he thought Louis was going to be able to focus on school work on a Friday.

There’s a track meet that day so by the time Liam bikes home, showers, totally _doesn’t_ spend a few extra minutes fixing his hair in the mirror, and walks the couple blocks to Louis’ house, it’s almost seven. 

Liam barely has all his books spread out on the table, Louis’ toes wiggling under his thigh from the side, before Louis’ phone is buzzing and he’s flicking it open, grinning stupidly at the screen and Liam doesn’t find it adorable _at all_. Liam runs his pen over and over the lines of his molecule drawings until the ink's bleeding through the paper just to keep his head clear. He’s reading aloud from the section of their book on carbon rings and trying not to be obvious about flicking his eyes to the side to watch the way Louis pulls in his lower lip to chew on it, “...properties of these bonds indicate that they are not purely double-”

“Harry says there’s a party at Niall’s house tonight,” Louis blurts, sounds like he’s trying to be casual about it but the fact that he’s wriggling his eyebrows under his fringe and bouncing a bit in his seat ruins the effect.

“Oh,” Liam ducks his head and fiddles with the corner of his notebook. Liam knows Niall but only because _everyone_ knows Niall, one of those kids who doesn’t sit at the same lunch table two days in a row, always sliding into any open seat like he belongs there. “Well I uh... alright sure, we can just study next week or something, we’ve got time before the next quiz.” 

A grin breaks out wide and huge across Louis’ face and Liam tries not to feel too disappointed that he’s not going to spend the rest of his night with Louis climbing all over him and not accomplishing anything resembling studying.

Liam just wishes Louis could at least _try_ to look less excited about the fact he had Liam come over just to send him back home while he goes out and has a great time with all of his friends Liam doesn’t know, because Louis’ eyes are bright and crinkled up behind his glasses as he starts going on faster than Liam can keep up with about who’s going to be there and texting Harry back and hoping Harry doesn’t bring that older twat he’s been pretending not to date lately. And it stings a bit.

Liam piles up his books into a stack and shuffles them into his backpack slowly, wonders how long he can linger until Louis hustles him out the door but doesn’t want to find out. “I’ll see you on Monday, yeah?” He says it with a tight smile as he stands up and slings his bag over his shoulder. He wishes he could throw in some offhand comment about other plans, but the only person he actually hangs out with is Zayn and he’s seen Zayn stumbling out of the boy’s room behind Niall with red eyes and a redder mouth enough times to know that Zayn’s probably going to the party too, and the lie isn’t worth it.

Louis’ head tilts up to look up at Liam, a frown spreads across his face and Liam sees his bare toes scrunch up in the fabric of the couch, “What do you mean?”

Liam huffs a laugh and scrubs a hand through his hair; he doesn’t want to sound like an arsehole but, “No offense, I just don’t think there’s any hope for either of us getting anywhere with these problem sets tonight cause you’re just going to be more distracted than usual.” He bites his lip as he watches Louis’ frown get a little deeper, “Have fun though.” He goes to add on a sentiment of ‘stay safe’ too but doesn’t want to seem any lamer than he probably already does.

“Wait, but,” Louis grabs Liam’s jeans by the back of his knee when he tries to walk towards the door, “you’re coming. Aren’t you?”

“ _Oh_. Oh.” Liam feels even worse now, heat blooms across his cheeks and he tries to laugh as he scuffs a shoe across the carpet, “I just thought that you... I mean-”

“You thought I was enough of a prick that I’d leave you by yourself on a Friday night and fuck off to a party without you?” Louis supplies like he doesn’t know whether to be amused or offended.

Liam winces and tries to sound apologetic, “Something like that?”

“Well no matter, Liam Payne,” Louis hops up from the couch like he’s spring loaded and grabs Liam by the wrist. “Let me just get changed and tell my mom I’m sleeping at yours and then we can get going.”

“Sl-sleeping at my house?” Liam asks, but Louis just hums and pulls him along up to his room, pushes him to sit on the edge of his bed while he disappears into his closet. Trousers and braces come flying out, and dodging them keeps Liam distracted enough from staring like a mouth breathing pervert at the pairs of Louis’ briefs that litter the floor, the black ones sitting a few inches from Liam’s hand on the rumpled sheets.

Louis comes back into view hopping on one foot as he rolls up his pant leg so the bones of his ankle peek out. He’s a little flushed and a lot gorgeous and Liam tries not to roll his eyes at his own thoughts but Louis is practically buzzing with excitement and it looks _good_ on him, aside from the way the wide neck of his shirt bares the dips of his collar bones and the hollow of his throat that flutters as he struggles with a shoelace.

“Ready?” Louis asks brightly, slipping his mobile into one of his back pockets. Liam is frankly amazed there’s enough room for it and swallows thickly.

“I don’t think I’m really dressed for a party,” Liam had talked himself in and out of going about four times in the span of Louis picking an outfit and he still hasn’t decided for sure.

Louis rolls his eyes and steps forward until he’s standing between Liam’s loosely parted legs. Liam concentrates on steadying his breathing as Louis reaches out and hooks a finger under the collar of his button up, tugs until the top two buttons pop open and grins down at him, “Perfect.”

-

Liam’s not sure what he was expecting, probably Louis spending a few minutes with him as a formality then slipping away into the crowd of people that had swelled to greet him. Louis is the type of person that, when he walks into a party, there are cheers and excited calls of his name, one armed hugs and cheek kisses from _everyone_.

What he didn’t expect was Louis to stay with him, tugging him around by the shirt sleeve to meet people Liam had only known by name and face before. It wasn’t really possible to know Louis and not know Harry (even if Liam may have tried, just to avoid the hot stabs of jealousy in his chest watching them sleep on each other’s shoulders in homeroom or pick food off each other’s trays at lunch), so an introduction isn’t necessary when Louis finally finds him in the kitchen with a flask hanging loosely from his fingers.

“Alright there, Payne?” he drawls in that voice sounding as if he’s being played in slow motion, smiling wide with hooded eyes like he’s just said something filthy and looking speculatively between Liam and Louis. Then there’s some exchange Liam doesn’t fully understand, Harry reaches out a foot to prod at Louis’ side and Louis mouth pulls a shape and pinches the side of Harry’s thigh with big eyes. 

“Er. Yeah, thanks?” Liam ventures, he thinks he feels a touch at the small of his back, skating across his waist, but it’s gone in an instant, and before he can be polite and ask the same of Harry he’s sliding off the countertop he was sitting on and shaking his curls out of his face.

“We should get you a drink, don’t you think, Louis?” Louis had already nicked the flask out of Harry’s hand and was wiping his mouth with the back of his hand after a swig so he speaks just a second after Liam’s rote _I don’t like beer_.

“Liam doesn’t drink.” 

Liam’s a little taken aback at Louis saying it for him because there’s a protective edge to Louis’ voice and knowing that about Liam had never stopped Louis from insisting that studying would be easier over a few pints or concocting elaborate plans to get Liam drunk spoken in almost wistful tones. Liam doesn’t know how he feels about Louis saying it like it’s a fact because it’s never been that much of a certainty to Liam, it’s just something he doesn’t normally do and he doesn’t fancy the idea of spending his night puking up his guts in a toilet. He hopes Louis hasn’t resigned himself to the idea that Liam’s no fun.

Harry plucks back the flask from Louis and jiggles it at Liam so it makes a sloshing noise, “Well then it’s a good thing we’re not drinking beer.” Liam’s hand twitches to reach out for it because he can see Louis trying to suppress a laugh next to him, and he knows it’s supposed to be _with_ him and not _at_ him, but he suddenly doesn’t want Louis to have to make excuses for him. 

But then there’s an arm slung over one of his shoulders and a smacking kiss planted on his temple. Someone shouts, “Lads!” in his ear so he’s pretty sure he knows who it is, and isn’t surprised when he turns and sees Louis under Niall’s other arm, palming Niall’s face to fend him off.

Harry’s grinning big and stupid at him, “Thirsty, Nialler?”

Niall blows him a kiss that Harry returns. “Very,” and opens his mouth so Harry can tip amber coloured liquor into it, gargles it obnoxiously so some of it slides down his chin. Liam can feel the astringent burn of it in his nostrils and, empty stomach roiling, can’t imagine how Niall is holding it in his throat like that. 

“Where’s the one with the tattoos and the eyebrows?” Harry asks, screwing the cap back on his flask after taking a pull. Somehow Louis is next to Liam again, bumping his hip against Liam’s, smiling a little glassy eyed and Liam wonders how much of Harry’s liquor he’d managed to get down. The dopey smile on Louis’ face doesn’t distract Liam from the small pang of guilt at the fact that it’s his fault Zayn’s probably been cold to Harry if they’ve ever hung out through Niall.

Back when he first started tutoring Louis, when Zayn did a lot of rolling his eyes and lighting cigarettes while Liam rambled, Liam was under the impression that Harry was Louis’ boyfriend who just didn’t treat him right and Zayn took it as his best mate duties to be a dick to Harry whenever it was convenient. Thus far, Harry has seemed to take it good-naturedly, if also slightly confused, and even tries harder to get Zayn to like him as if he needs to _know_ why Zayn doesn’t.

“He’s not-” Niall looks around, seems at once sad like he just lost something, presumably Zayn, “Oops, I uh-”

“Liam?” Zayn surfaces from the crowd through the kitchen arch, sounding surprised but excited at the same time. His face’s split in a loose grin and his eyes look puffy and heavy, “What are you doing here?” He rubs a hand through Liam’s shorn hairs, probably enjoying the feel of it a little too much in his state. Liam wants to be wounded that even his best friend is that shocked Liam’s actually at a party but before Liam can get anything out Zayn’s eyes find where Louis is standing close and his grin goes sleazy, “ _Ah_ , I see.”

If Zayn’s going for subtle he misses by a ways. Liam’s saved from having to try and cover for it, though, because Niall is perked up again and throws himself at Zayn while singing, “Found yoou,” to some broken tune. Liam realizes now that Zayn’s collar is pulled all out of shape like someone was tugging at it to get to his collarbones and the zip of his trousers is only halfway done up. When Niall pulls back he’s still got whiskey down his face and Zayn wipes it off with his own hand, looking, of all things, _fond_. Then he’s licking the taste of it off his palm eyes locked with Niall’s like this is some private moment just between them even though Harry, Louis, and Liam are very obviously still there. And Liam is suddenly very concerned with the fact that Niall had kissed him on the face two minutes ago and God knows where his mouth was on Zayn before that.

-

There’s a firepit in Niall’s backyard that he has burning (and every instinct Liam has tells him to find a garden hose to douse it with because there are drunk teenagers everywhere and _an open pit of flames_ ) with beat-up wooden lawn benches and chairs. The five of them end up spread around it, the only place that the pounding music and jumble of voices bleeds out enough to be heard over. Harry pours a good portion of a bottle of Jameson’s into a half drank litre of Coke that they pass from hand to hand. By the time it gets to Liam from Niall he tries to be smooth about bringing it to his mouth but Louis has been watching him almost worringly close so it doesn’t go unnoticed.

Louis looks like he’s trying _very hard_ not to look exceedly pleased and it makes Liam feel warmth spill through his chest that has nothing to do with the sugary burn of the whiskey-cola. The fire snaps and cracks in front of them and Liam’s not too sure what the other three are talking about because Louis is meeting his eyes and hooking a leg over Liam’s and swaying it so their knees knock together. Liam takes another swallow from the bottle and Louis smiles slow and private at him, angles of his face thrown in glowing half shadows from the fire.

Liam tries to tune back into the conversation because his head is getting fuzzy with the next pass of the bottle and it seems like it would be so _easy_ to lay his hand on Louis’ leg, to run his fingers along the line of his inseam, and that Louis might just let him. The next time Harry says something, Louis curls in towards Liam, laughing, and buries his face in the crease of Liam’s neck, breath puffing hot and damp on Liam’s skin. Then he’s not pulling back, taking in air deep through his nose and snuffling in close and Liam feels a finger hook into his front pocket so Louis’ hand is tethered there. At that point Liam can’t not lift his arm so Louis fits snug under it because he’d probably lose circulation to that limb and Liam is sticking by that pretense if he has to.

They stay coiled together like that for a while until the fire starts to burn low, and it would be peaceful if Liam wasn’t so hyper aware of every inch of his body pressed against Louis. Sliding a hand to where Liam’s thigh meets his hip and squeezing firm and quick once, Louis unfolds into standing and shuffles over to where Niall’s sprawled in a lawn chair, guitar in his lap, sunglasses on in the pitch black, and Zayn near passed out at his knee. Liam tries to shake himself awake out of the trance he’d slipped into, heat of the fire and Louis next to him seeping into his bones and making him sleepwarm. He watches as Louis leans over Niall, hand cupped onto the side of his head and whispering more to his neck than his ear in that way Louis has and Liam snorts to himself figuring Louis probably learned how to whisper from Harry, then thinks he’s maybe a little buzzed.

Niall’s mouth languidly slides into a grin that’s all teeth, eyes flicking to Liam then back to Louis hanging over him, and nods earnestly. Louis straightens up and ruffles a hand through Niall’s hair affectionately and Niall smacks him across the bum when Louis turns to walk back towards Liam. He stops in front of Liam so their shins press together up their length, his head’s bowed and it’s so dark out Liam can’t tell what his face looks like at that moment but there’s no mistaking it when Louis jerks his head towards the house and Liam can see the jut of his cheek when his smile pulls one-sided.

Harry whistles blatantly at them when Liam gets up to follow Louis back to the house and Liam tries to reason with himself that this doesn’t mean anything, Louis could just want Liam to walk home with him since they live so close or get inside away from the chill of the night air or God knows what else, not whatever flashes of images are spinning through Liam’s head.

They step through the sliding glass doors back into the fray of people that suddenly seems sharper and more overbearing compared to the outside calm and Louis reaches blindly back with one hand outstretched while he keeps walking. Liam swallows and reaches for it, hoping he hasn’t misinterpreted, and Louis’ hand tangles tight with his own, pulling Liam through the press of bodies towards the staircase. Liam sees Louis duck his head down like he’s trying to hide a smile and Liam’s heart is banging so hard in his chest Louis can probably feel it in his fingertips.

As they climb the stairs Louis’ grip slackens so their hands slide apart until just their fingers are hooked together. There’s a short hall at the top and Louis seems to know where he’s going, to the right and on the end, pressing open a door into a room plastered with Derby County posters and large breasted, dark haired women. Niall’s then. 

Liam follows him and hopes to whatever deity is listening that his nerves aren’t as obvious as he thinks they are. Louis presses back into the door to close it with a quiet snick so they’re alone save for the muffled thump of the stereo beneath their feet.

Louis just stays leaning against the door peering at Liam standing there trying to figure out what happens now. And Liam just- Louis looks like the beginning of every shameful mundane wank fantasy Liam’s had since they started spending time together. His thick rectangle frames under his fringe that looks tousled and _soft_ like Liam imagines the rest of his body would be. And Liam just _wants_ so fiercely that it scares him. His mouth feels like it’s drying up at the same time his chest is starting to heave and he croaks out, “Come here.” It sounds gruff and rumbling to his own ears and he’s as surprised as Louis looks.

Louis walks to him slow, any playfulness leaving his face until his cheeks look flushed high and as shaken as Liam feels. Louis crowds in close and his hands land flat on Liam’s chest only to slide up along his neck to the sides of his face. Liam’s palms find the slight curve at Louis’ waist and watches as Louis’ eyes hood to focus where Liam knows his mouth is lax. 

Louis presses in to kiss him and he has to go up on his toes to do it and that twists something in Liam’s gut, his hand skating to the small of Louis’ back to gather him closer. Louis’ stubble prickles at Liam’s chin as their mouths move against each other, his back bows to the force of Liam moulding their bodies together with his arms around Louis’ sides. Louis surges back stronger, tongue chasing into Liam’s slack mouth to lick over his fat lower lip, and walks Liam backwards, Liam’s shoulders curled around Louis to stay kissing.

The small of Liam’s back hits against Niall’s desk and Louis’ hands drop to his hips, the heat of his palms finding the space between his shirt and waistband. Louis sucks more kisses to Liam’s lips that make everything inside him go to putty. Liam breaks away to breathe deep because his head’s swimming and he’s not entirely sure he isn’t in bed at home dreaming this, in which case he doesn’t waste any time and ducks to lay his teeth into the soft yielding skin of Louis’ neck. Louis is panting hard in his ear, hands smoothing around under his shirt until they’re centered at Liam’s belly, flexing his fingers into the muscle. 

“I told Niall... wouldn’t get his bed dirty but I...,” Louis is tugging on the waistband of Liam’s jeans insistently enough that it’s lifting his hips off the table, “I just want to-” and he drops to his knees, looking up at Liam through his eyelashes like he’s _asking permission to suck Liam off_ , and Liam can only nod dumbstruck while Louis leans in to nuzzle just below Liam’s belt buckle. Louis’ glasses bump against it so he pulls back to sit on his heels and reaches up to take them off, carefully folding them and placing them on the desk next to where Liam’s white-knuckling the edge of it, all the while staring up and Liam with red splotches down to the collar of his shirt making him look feverish.

Louis hooks a thumb under the hem of Liam’s shirt and rucks it up so it stays under Liam’s armpits and his hands find Liam’s buckle, pull it apart in deliberate motions. Drags the zipper down so Liam can hear every tooth separating. Liam’s trousers are loose enough they don’t need much tugging to fall off his hips to bunch at the slight spread of his thighs. His cock is swollen up down one of the legs of his briefs so it bulges out against the worn cotton. Louis bows in, holding Liam’s eye, licking his lips so they’re shiny and open and finds the needy throb of Liam’s trapped cockhead. He mouths at Liam, staining Liam’s briefs wet with his saliva as his tongue runs sluggish and messily over him. Liam’s chest feels hollowed out and ready to collapse because the hot moist pressure is the first time he’s been touched like that by something other than his right hand. 

Louis runs his hand over him one more time like he’s feeling for how long Liam is, then his fingers are trying to squirm into the slit at the front of his pants before giving that up and just curling under Liam’s elastic waistband and dragging it down until Liam’s cock pitches up and out. Louis lays a palm on him so Liam’s cock is pressing up against his belly, spreading slick under his navel, and Liam can’t help one hand from reaching out to smooth Louis’ fringe aside. Louis smiles up at him then, calming and fond, eyes blown and a little unfocused. He leans in to suck the head into his mouth, tilting it out to bring it to his tongue.

Liam doesn’t know if he can actually watch without passing out. The plumpness of Louis’ lips is stretched thin around the fat of his cock, pulling in and out of Louis’ mouth as he bobs around the tip, tongue pressing in under the head so Liam’s vision blurs. Louis fits a hand around the base of Liam and jacks him loosely into the circle of his mouth. With his jaw hanging wide Louis let’s Liam’s cock press against the plush inside of his cheek, making it bulge out obscenely and Liam’s hand tightens in Louis’ hair. 

Liam’s chewing his own lips raw and can feel his balls drawing up close to his body just as Louis opens up his throat to the thick pressure of Liam’s cock. One of Liam’s sweaty palms slips and loses purchase on the edge of the desk and he is _so close_ because Louis is staring up at him through hooded, doped up looking eyes like he’s _getting off_ on sucking Liam’s cock. And then Liam sees the palm Louis has on himself, lazedly rubbing up and down his zip to relieve the pressure.

That’s it for Liam. He groans low and broken but can’t manage any words. He thinks dazedly that he should try and tell Louis somehow so he can politely jizz into a tissue or something but Louis’ eyes are glazed and is still rhythmically pumping Liam and swallowing around him. Liam tries tugging harder on Louis’ hair, only that makes him moan like he _likes_ it and sucks Liam down that much harder. The quivers of the sound punch low in Liam’s belly and he feels his body start to curl in on itself. 

One of his hands fists so hard in Louis’ hair it _has to_ hurt, but it’s enough to pull him up by. Liam’s other hand circles hard at his base of his cock to try and stave it off, but his hips snapping back so he slides out of the clutch of Louis’ throat is too much. He feels himself start to nut off as his cock _pops_ out from between Louis’ lips, only his one hand is still gripped in Louis’ hair and his whole body tenses up with his release, so he’s holding Louis still for it. 

His cock kicks and spurts as Liam shudders through it helplessly, _mortified_ because there’s jizz streaking up Louis’ spit-slick chin, over his puffy abused lips, and across the bridge of his nose. Liam is _so embarrassed_. This is not something that’s okay to do, after Louis snaps out of whatever daze he’s in he’s going to storm out of the room in disgust and never _look_ at Liam again.

But when he accidentally flexes his numb fingers knotted in Louis’ hair Louis _whines_ , mewls like he’s in distress and then is going up on his knees so there’s enough room to shove his hand down his flies he’s managed to get open and jerks at himself raw and rough, dicking into his own hand. His head falls against Liam’s stomach, smearing the mess everywhere then turning to lick it from Liam’s skin. Liam wants to be disgusted but it’s almost painful how sharp arousal shoots through him at the sight. Louis bites at the soft of Liam’s belly with a sharp nip that makes Liam hiss and he _knows_ will bruise.

Liam watches Louis’ face screw up with this wrecked expression, his hips spasming against nothing then Louis falls limp and shivery against him as Liam smoothes his hair to settle him through it.


End file.
